infantry
Bask in the sun."

Anyhow, I cannot believe that ex-Brigadiers die. They only fade away.
Fade away, I think, like the Cheshire Cat in _Alice in Wonderland_,
leaving at the last not a grin but a scowl behind them. "_Brigadiers
will fade away_," I imagine, ran the instruction from the Army Council,
"_passing the vanishing point in the following order:--_

(1) _Spurs._
(2) _Field Boots._
(3) _Main body._
(4) _Brass hat._
(5) _Scowl._"

But oh, how they will be missed, with their insatiable hunger for
replies! I remember one in particular, very fierce and black-moustached,
who used to pop up suddenly from behind a Loamshire hedge with an
enormous note-book in his hand and say to unhappy company commanders,
"The situation is so-and-so and so-and-so; now let me hear you give your
orders." And the Company-Commander, who would have liked to read through
_Infantry Training_ once or twice and then hold a sort of inter-allied
conference with his Platoon-Commander, putting the Company
Sergeant-Major in the chair, felt that after frightfulness of this kind
mere actual war would probably be child's-play. And yet they tell me he
was a pleasant enough fellow in the Mess, this Brigadier, and liked good
cooking. Now I come to think of it, he faded away before the War came to
an end. He faded away into a Major-General.

How different from this sort was the type that could always be placated
by a glittering bayonet charge or a thoroughly smart salute! I remember
one of this kind who came charging across the landscape, his Staff
Captain at his heels, to a point where he saw a friend of mine
apparently lost in meditation and sloth. Unfortunately the great man's
horse betrayed him as he tried to jump a low hedge, and, when he had
clambered up again and arrived in a rather tumbled condition to ask
indignantly what had happened to the scouts, "They have established a
number of hidden observation posts," my friend replied, keeping his
presence of mind, "and are making an exact report of everything that
transpires on the enemy's front," and he waved his arm towards the scene
of the catastrophe. It was not thought necessary to examine their notes.

In France Brigadiers were mainly divided into the sort that came round
the front line themselves, and the sort that sent the Brigade-major or
somebody else who had broken out into a frontal inflammation to do it
for them. It is difficult to say which _genus_ was th